


Attachments

by LoveDay



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Fluff, Multi, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveDay/pseuds/LoveDay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper's life has always been straight forward. Dream about the man she loves, wake up, got to work, take shit from him, go home, restart. However, when Sherlock Holmes doesn't turn up at St Barts one day, her life is about to take an unexpected turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attachments

“I love you.” Sherlock whispered, his face inches away from hers.  
Molly’s eyes fluttered open, awaking her from her reoccurring dream. She sighed. She would always come into consciousness at that point, never before and never after. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling, as she always did. It became a routine. She would dream of Sherlock, awake at exactly the same point and then stare up at the ceiling for the next 10 minutes, pondering on whether she should call in sick. She always made the same decision and ended up getting out of bed and getting ready for another day of slicing up cadavers and taking shit from Sherlock and never being able to say anything back. Why couldn't she be more confident? Why did she have to be in love with the man who never gives a thought to what he says or does and if it will hurt someone? There were times where she thought that she was an idiot for falling for a guy like him, but something would always change her mind. The way he looked. The way he spoke. How he always sounded so clever. It would send shivers running down her spine. She kept telling herself to give up. Move on. But how could she, when he was just so perfect and imperfect at the same time? When he was just so mysterious?

She arrived at work at 8:30am, as usual. She hung up her coat and put her lab coat on, as usual. She picked up her list, as usual. She went to the morgue, as usual. She worked, as usual. Just the same old Molly Hooper. Nothing new. Nothing different. Except one thing, no Sherlock asking for body parts. No Sherlock sat in the lab working on strange experiments. No Sherlock. At first, she thought nothing of it, but after a while she got very curious. Even if he wasn't on a case, Sherlock would always find a way to be there, so why was today different? After her shift was over, Molly sent John a text.  
Where was Sherlock today? Is he not well?  
Molly  
Five minutes later, she received a reply.  
He found out he has cancer this morning. He didn't want to leave the flat today.  
JW  
Molly felt her heart stop. Sherlock Holmes, the Sherlock Holmes, has cancer. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't believe it.  
I’m so sorry John. Is there anything I can do?  
Molly  
The whole world seemed to just stop. Her mind raced as she walked back to her locker to retrieve her coat. It was raining outside, what an appropriate moment for the crappy British weather to chime in. She put up her hood and made her way outside. At that point, her phone went off again.  
Sherlock says he wants you to come over. Now.  
JW  
That confused her very much. Why would Sherlock want to see her? He didn't count her as a friend, a least, she never thought he did. Perhaps he just needs to insult someone to make everything seem normal.  
I’m on my way.  
Molly  
She ran to Baker Street, not because it was raining, but because she wanted to see Sherlock. She knew very well it was dangerous to get even more attached to him now, but she couldn't help how she felt. She knocked on the front door of 221B and listened for the footsteps. A few moments later, John was stood in front of her with the door open. He gestured for her to come in. She wiped her feet on the mat then raced up the stairs and walked in to the living room. Sherlock was sat in his armchair, his legs crossed and his hands propped under his chin. He turned his head to look at the soaking wet Molly stood in his living room and he smiled, “Hello Molly Hooper.”


End file.
